Hour 23: Chee-whiz

My cycles and wheels of cheese

Have turned throughout the years

Initially of Kraft singles, I found myself afeared


A yellow-tinted substrate fastened to the bread

It seems a clear conclusion, that we have been mislead


A plasticine monstrosity that some of us abhor

Is forgotten against the backdrop of that which I adore


To the kitchen I would creep, quiet as a mouse

And leave a trail of cheeto dust as I snuck back through the house


To great chagrin, lactose could not be a friend of mine

I think of cheese above me in the moon and how she shines

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